


Team Free Will x Reader: Roaming The Halls

by KingOfHearts709



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Geometry, Sad, Scary, School, Sort of at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 14:44:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4352888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingOfHearts709/pseuds/KingOfHearts709
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never roam the halls without knowing what lurks in them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Team Free Will x Reader: Roaming The Halls

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea in the middle of my Geometry class last year. I really missed my other one at my old school. He was nicer. xoxo

You were a sophomore in high school, a new high school. You missed you old school, your old friends, and especially your old teachers.  
Geometry, for example. You really missed your old Geometry teacher.  
So here you were with your dreadful new Geometry teacher, who yelled a lot, had a limp, and was constantly keeping the entire class confused. You cursed yourself for not doing your homework enough last year, because if you had, you wouldn’t have to retake for a better grade.  
“Now, class,” she started, “is everyone’s cell phone off?” You glanced down at your pocket, where your cell phone, though on silent, was still on. You decided to leave it, so long as you remembered not to take it out.  
“Okay,” she nodded. “Today, we’ll be learning about graphing.” The entire class groaned, including you. “Hey,” she scolded, “I do not want to hear you children whine and groan about the easiest damn thing.” And that’s how every lesson started. “Take out your textbooks.” You reached into your bag, only to find out you had (unluckily) forgotten your textbook. Of all the damn things, you thought. Raising your hand slowly, the teacher nodded at you to speak.  
“I forgot my textbook in my locker,” you stated. “Can I go get it? Please?” The teacher rolled her eyes, as if you were wasting her time.  
“Fine,” she sighed. “But only this once.” She handed you the yellow, laminated hall pass, and you got up to leave, but not before she told you, “And no roaming the halls. You’ll get me in trouble for that.” You nodded and left the classroom.  
Finally, you thought in relief, a small part of you glad that you had forgotten your textbook. You sighed and hummed a tune, a fan made song, in fact, called “Tumblr Fandom Style”. It was one of those parody songs that people easily became attached to.  
“There’s Hetalia, My Little Pony,” you sang quietly, giggling. “Harry Potter, and-” You stopped when you heard a deep, angry voice arguing with another deep, annoyed voice, then one gruff voice telling everyone to be quiet.  
“There’s someone here,” the gruff voice said, cautiously. You heard footsteps coming towards you until you saw from behind the corner of the corner of the concrete just a hint of what looked like a knife. You panicked, dropped your books and ran away. The footsteps followed you all the way to the girl’s bathroom, but they stopped. You quickly hid in the last stall and put your feet up on the toilet.  
“I’m not going in a little girl’s bathroom!” the angry voice said.  
“We don’t have a choice!” the annoyed voice told the other.  
“I’m going in,” the gruff voice decided, and footsteps came closer and closer, almost unsure, before your stall was opened and you looked up to see a man in a tan trenchcoat, a blue tie and pants and some sort of a blade in his hand. His hair was messy and brown and he had bright blue eyes and a confused expression. You widened your eyes as you stared at the blade he held, backing up as much as possible.  
“Dude!” one of the voices, you couldn’t tell which as this point, exclaimed as two sets of footsteps ran to the strange man.  
“What?” a very tall man with longish brown hair and a plaid shirt said in confusion.  
“It’s just a girl,” the other man, who was shorter with short dirty blonde hair and a heavy jacket added.  
“Are you going to kill me?” you asked, a bit shakily. The taller man looked at the blade the trenchcoated man was holding and quickly hit him with his elbow, causing the blade to slip up the tan sleeve.  
“Sorry,” he apologised with a solemn, expressionless look. “I must have scared you.”  
“What’s your name?” the blonde-haired man asked.  
“(YN) (LN),” you said. “Is it okay if you tell me yours?” The man nodded.  
“Well, I’m Dean, and this is my little brother, Sammy,” he gestured to the taller man.  
“And you?” You nodded to the trenchcoated man.  
“My name is Castiel,” he nodded.  
“Like in the Bible?”  
“You read the Bible?” Sammy asked.  
“I have a weird fetish,” you shrugged, “but I know Castiel from the Bible. Except I think they say ‘Cassiel’ instead.”  
“I see,” Castiel said. “You must be religious.”  
“Not at all,” you shook your head. “Like I said, I just find it interesting.” You looked at the other two. “And you two are brothers?”  
“Yeah,” Sammy assured.  
“Okay. I think I’ve got it. Castiel, Dean and Sammy.”  
“It’s Sam, actually. Dean only calls me Sammy.”  
“Why?”  
“I told him not to.” You nodded your head. Standing on your two feet, you exited the stall and looked around before turning back.  
“What are you all doing here, anyway?” you asked.  
“We’re...” Dean started, though it seemed he didn’t want to finish as if you wouldn’t believe him.  
“Well, it’s...” Sam tried to explain, but he couldn’t either.  
“There’s a ghost and we’re here to kill it,” Castiel said firmly.  
“Cass!” Dean hit him on the arm.  
“No, it’s okay,” you shook your head. “I believe you.”  
“Seriously?” Sam asked. You nodded. “What about werewolves?” You nodded again. “Vampires, demons, spirits? All of them?”  
“I’m game for anything,” you grinned. Suddenly, the lights started flickering above you, two of them going completely out.  
“What is that?” you asked. “Is that the ghost?”  
“Everyone look out for anything-” Dean tried to say, but was thrown against the tile wall with inhuman force.  
“Dean!” Sam exclaimed, but he was smacked against a sink. Castiel, who you thought would be able to resist, got shut in a stall. There was a sort of coldness in the air, and behind you, a figure with a sodden face and a half ripped backpack appeared.  
“You all deserve this!” it screamed, to which you turned around. A young boy, who couldn’t have been more than eight years old, moved towards your face. “Murderers!”  
“But I...” you whispered. “I didn’t...”  
“(YN)!” Dean struggled to say. “Salt!” You looked at the bottle to your right that was sat on the ground, filled with crisp white salt. You made a grab for it, and just barely caught it before you were thrown against the hard floor. You winced, but because of the adrenaline, you quickly recovered and threw the salt at him, which made him disappear. Dean, Sam, and Castiel came from where they had been thrown, taking the salt from you and composing themselves.  
“We need to go find that corpse,” Dean said as he exited the bathroom, Sam sighing and following him. Castiel stayed put, rubbing his arm where he had hit it.  
“Are you okay?” you asked hesitantly. He nodded and walked after Dean and Sam. You weren’t sure if you should follow the three men. Weren’t they, like, dangerous? Nevertheless, your curiosity got the better of you and you went towards the footsteps as they slowed and stopped.  
“Wait!” you called, not too loudly or someone would hear you in the building. Sam looked up to the sound of your voice and sighed again. You caught up, to which Dean looked at you, confused.  
“What’re you still doing here?” he asked.  
“I want to help,” you said bluntly. Dean scoffed.  
“Look, I know that all you teenagers with your iPhones and texting think that a ghost hunt is no big deal, but seriously, go back to your class.”  
“Look,” Sam cut in to Dean’s explanation, “he just means that this is no thing for someone young like you. You’re only, what, fourteen?”  
“Fifteen,” you corrected.  
“Right, fifteen. What he means is that hunting isn’t easy. Look at us, I mean, we’re already into it. We were practically born into it. But you don’t have to be. You can go off and go to college and be whatever you want to be, but trust us, you don’t want what we have.” You looked at Sam with disbelief and curiosity. There was no way you would back down. No way.  
“I don’t care,” you finally decided, crossing your arms. “I don’t care what happens to me right now because I can help right now.” Dean could clearly see you weren’t going to give up, mostly because that was what he used to do. Sam just sighed and didn’t continue his convincing speech, as he could tell you meant business. Castiel, though he couldn't read minds anymore, knew that what you were thinking was something of a certain show.  
“Fine,” Dean muttered, but pointed at you and added, “but I swear, you’re going to regret this.”  
“Dean,” Sam hit him lightly.  
“Uh, guys?” Castiel said suddenly.  
“What?” Sam asked.  
“Run.” You looked to see the lockers were rattling vigorously before almost all of them flew open.  
“Go,” Dean said, pushing you forward, “go!” You took full speed ahead, the three hunter’s footsteps following you.  
“(YN)!” Sam yelled over the noise of the lockers, “look out!” You had been looking at the ground as you ran, but now you looked up and saw the little boy again, the drenched little boy.  
“It was your fault!” he screamed. You looked at him.  
“No, I...” you tried to explain, but nothing came out. His super speed had him run to you quickly.  
“Murderer!” he yelled in your face.  
“It wasn’t... I didn’t do it...”  
“It was your fault, murderer!” You closed your eyes, waiting for the attack.  
Until suddenly, you burst out.  
“It was an accident!” you screamed in his face. He stared at you, almost shocked. “It was an accident!” you screamed again. “I didn’t mean it!” You opened your eyes to see his face, wide-eyed and frowning, water still dripping from his ghostly hair. He didn’t speak, and you lowered your voice. “I didn’t mean it. You have to stop doing this, it’s not fair. Not to you, and not to me.” You sighed. “You were my little brother, and I’m sorry I let you die like that, but I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.” He just stared up at you, still, so you knelt down to his eyesight and ran your hand through his hair as he disappeared slowly. No fire, no screaming, just lost memories.  
“(YN)?” Dean asked cautiously. “You... okay?” You breathed out a sigh of relief.  
“Y-yeah,” you managed to get out. Castiel and Sam stayed quiet. “I mean, I just killed the ghost of my little brother, but other than that, I’m fine.” You sighed and turned to the three. “I should get back to Geometry.” Dean smiled, almost forcefully.  
“Yeah,” he said, patting your shoulder comfortingly.  
“Here,” Sam added, handing you a slip of paper. “This is our number. You see anything that falls under... weird, you call us.”  
“Take care, kid.” You grinned, as Dean had, and started to walk away, but not before saying, “And by the way, Castiel, next time, don’t just walk into the girl’s bathroom.” Cass looked at you, confused, before you continued walking back to class.  
“Where the hell have you been?” one of your classmates asked as you entered the room. “You’ve been gone almost the entire time!”  
“Oh, nothing,” you sighed, taking your seat in the front again.  
“What happened to you?” another peer asked behind you. “You look like you’ve just been in a fight with some monster.” You chuckled, half-heartedly, and looked back.  
“In a way,” you explained, “I did.” Your teacher, who hadn’t been in the room (mostly because she didn’t quite care about your class), walked back inside, setting her eyes on you immediately.  
“When did you get back?” she asked. You shrugged.  
“I didn’t look at the clock,” you answered matter-of-factly. She looked down at your empty arms.  
“Where’s your Geometry textbook?” You suddenly remembered that, because of the ghost fiasco, you had completely forgotten about getting your book in the first place. You sighed, shrugging again.  
“Let’s just say I left it at home,” you said. She looked you up and down, as if she didn’t believe you, before walking back to her desk.  
“Excuse me?” one of the students said, raising their hand. “May I go to the bathroom?” The teacher let out an annoyed breath before picking up another hall pass and holding it out to the student.  
“And no roaming the halls,” she warned. “You could get into big trouble for that.” You smiled down at your desk.  
Yeah. You really could.


End file.
